Ready? Go!
by another.maggie
Summary: Japril filler for 13*19. Can be read as a follow up to "Round'n'Round" or on its own.


**A/N: I honestly don't know- somehow Japril keeps invading my mind although they're not even officially together on the show. :P Enjoy! R &R deeply appreciated. :)**

 ** _DreamBee_ alerted me that it might appear too soon after everything for them to end up like this, which I wholeheartedly agree with. So, for the sake of the story the time it took for them to return from Montana until Diane's death is about 6+ish months.**

* * *

Jackson got home later that night, with fewer possessions. He was glad that he'd brought the files and pictures to Maggie, where they belonged. But he didn't regret not giving them to her earlier.

Yes, he'd wanted to. When Diane died he'd wanted to go to the hospital, long before Maggie's dad got there, and he'd wanted give everything he had to her. He was just about to leave when a hand on his wrist had stopped him.

"Don't", she'd said.

"I have to", he'd argued.

"She's not ready", she'd insisted, "Don't."

And he didn't.

* * *

The funeral service had been beautiful. Very much like Diane, full of color and light. She'd wanted everyone to wear a colorful accessory. Jackson had chosen a light blue tie. A very meaningful one. He'd not worn it since that day. He'd considered throwing it away after another meaningful day. He never could. Now he was happy he hadn't.

The flowers for the grave had been composed of wildflowers, roses and lilies in all colors. The marching band had played _So long and Thanks for all the fish._

After it had been over he went to the park. He'd found them easily, their white dresses standing out brightly against the green landscape. She'd smiled when he joined them.

"How was it?", she'd asked.

"Beautiful", he'd said. There wasn't anything more to it.

Her face had been an open book of worry to him. "Are you sure you wanna do this? Today, I mean. We could-"

"I'm sure", he'd insisted.

And she'd trusted him.

He hadn't given Maggie the pictures that day.

* * *

To be honest, he'd forgotten about them for a while, his focus on his own life after months of being elsewhere. There had been things he needed to tend to, and Maggie... it was easier without her in the equation.

He'd thought about her, of course. When he'd spotted the pile on his desk before he went to bed, he'd thought about her. Then he'd thought it might be best if he took them to her this instant. He had been halfway through tying his shoelaces when his voice of reason had reminded him:

"It is almost midnight, Jackson."

And that had been true. And he'd never finished tying his shoelaces. And he'd not taken the pile to Maggie. And he'd gone to bed, because it had been late. But not for Maggie.

* * *

However, Maggie was back now, and she'd seemed okay and he'd complimented her and she wasn't okay, and she obviously needed something, but she wouldn't say what it was and it was just so hard to watch her struggling like this, she was his friend after all, and he knew, he knew what it meant to go through grieve alone, or what felt like alone, no offense there, it wasn't like-

"I think you should go give her the pictures now", she'd commented on his rambling. "I think she's ready."

And he had. And Maggie had been ready. And somehow, although it was late that night it wasn't too late.

* * *

He got home long after he went out. He got home to a dimly lit house and neglected calling "I'm home", knowing it would wake up his daughter. He shed coat and shoes and tiptoed towards the bathroom where he took a shower and brushed his teeth before he went to his bedroom.

The lights were still on and she was there, reading, her glasses high on her nose.

"Hey", he greeted her in a low tone. He didn't want to startle her.

"Hey yourself", she said, her eyes focused on the book. "How did it go with Maggie?"

"You were right", he admitted without the faintest feeling of remorse. The phrase didn't initiate that feeling within him, not anymore. "She was ready."

She nodded. No "I told you so", just a nod.

"What are you reading?", he asked.

"I'm not reading", she informed him.

He studied the cover of the book and realized.

"Oh, April..."

"I'm not sad", she told him. "I just... I wanted to see him today."

Jackson let himself sink onto the cushions next to her to get a look. He'd seen it too many times. He'd never see it often enough.

"Jackson?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we were..." She lifted her gaze from the picture album to look at him. "Do you think he was ready?"

He'd pondered his response for a minute given the sensitive subject matter. "I think we were ready. The three of us. He just got the easy way out."

She hit his chest. "You're horrible."

"And still you love me."

"Shut up, Avery."

"Shut up yourself, Mrs. Avery."

Her lips pecked his and he felt her glasses against his cheeks."That's still Dr. Kepner to you."

"Mh, bossy", he said kissing her.

"You'd get that way if you spent a whole day with truly hopeless residents... Oh, I might have contracted TB today."

"WHAT?"


End file.
